


Only You

by syzygyy



Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: :(, M/M, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syzygyy/pseuds/syzygyy
Summary: Batman allows himself a moment of vulnerability as he reflects on the events occurred during Arkham City, while a familiar voice sings for him.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Only You

It was deep in the night. The rain drops fell soothingly on the batmobile’s windscreen as Batman led it through the colorful lights of the nocturnal Gotham. Not even knowing the time, not even caring. He didn’t even dare to contact Alfred to let him know he was okay and on his way back, too afraid to ruin the moment of strange peace that was surrounding him.   
He drove as if he was programmed, mind completely blank. His tired eyes and mind barely registering events any more. His wounded body screaming for relax.

The journey to the batcave was short since there were no crime reports or police communications. The city was awfully quiet, as if silenced by the recent and shocking events and he was glad of that; the last thing he wanted was going back into action after that long and tough night.

He dragged his exhausted body out of the car into the welcoming darkness of the cave and slowly approached the dim lights coming from the computers.

He took his gauntlets and mask off and ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes and sighed deeply. 

_Will this madness ever stop?_

He thought back on the dreadful events that followed one another during that night. 

The whole Arkham City project secretly led by Hugo Strange and his plans to bring Gotham to its knees, the League and Ra’s trying to take control over it. The whole mess with the Titan poisoning and the crazy race to get to the cure in time. All the people who lost their lives right in front of his own eyes, one by one, as the night proceeded towards its inevitable conclusion...

Bruce stopped thinking at once. He decided that he didn’t want to acknowledge the things he had seen during the night. Not yet. He was too tired and his weak body was threatening to collapse at any moment. He enjoyed a few seconds of peace as he listened to the sound of the rain outside the cave, slowly tapping on the rocks.

When he reopened his eyes, he was welcomed by the sight of his cowl, lying there on the table, staring back at him...so small and yet so gigantic to carry the weight of the endless war he swore to fight years ago...

It was suddenly enveloped by a green blinking light that brought Bruce back to reality. He noticed that it was coming from the computer notifying a new message and witout thinking, he activated it, hoping to hear a familiar voice for a distraction.

“You have one missed call. Call received: three hours ago.”

A pause. And then someone started singing.

_ “Only youuuuu...” _

Bruce recognized it immediately. It was indeed a familiar voice...but the last one he wanted to hear in that moment. It belonged to his archenemy, the clown prince of crime himself. Joker.

_ “...can make all this world seem riiight...” _

This wasn’t good at all. He had been hoping to avoid this particular train of thoughts...but it was inevitable now. 

The madman lost his life that night. The Titan he had used back at the asylum had resulted lethal and Bruce had been poisoned on purpose to ensure his collaboration in finding the cure. However, things during their final fight had taken an awful and quite unpredictable turn...as always, after all, while dealing with the Joker. The loss of the cure in such a foolish way was something that he could have never predicted. But he should have. It’s what he kept repeating himself, looking down at the man on the floor. He should’ve...And now the Joker was really gone. But somehow his brain didn’t acknowledge the fact yet. The truth was that he didn’t know how to. Many knew that sooner or later, their twisted game would take one of their lives away, he knew it as well...He just couldn’t believe that it actually happened, just minutes ago. And as much as he wanted the voice to stop, he couldn’t bring himself to turn off the device.

_ “...Only youuuu...can make...the daaaarkness bright...” _

There was no melody but he could almost hear it along with his voice. He couldn’t help but notice how weak it sounded.

_ 3 hours ago...he was still alive... _

He imagined the sick green haired man alone somewhere, singing to a phone and probably aware that he was going to die soon. Bruce couldn’t control the sudden and unpleasant feeling of knots in his throat.

_ “Only you, and you alone ca-an thrill me like you doo-huh...” _

He thought about his own words earlier that night.

_ “Do you want to know something funny, even after everything you’ve done, I would have saved you..”  _

And it was true. He had the antidote in his hand after using it for himself...but the crazy man stabbed him on the shoulder and in the blink of an eye, the vial was shattered on the ground, all the hope for his salvation lost with it. 

_ “That actually is...pretty funny...heh” _

Now that the adrenaline was gone, it was painful to remember how desperate and miserable the thin man had looked trying to reach the liquid on the floor. Bruce’s face contorted, trying to fight the strong, inexplicable tide of emotions that was burning within his chest. He could feel the blood leaving his fingers for the strong grip on the edges of the table. 

_ “And fill..my heart with love...for only youuuu..” _

_ Was there another way? What should I have done? You did this to yourself..._

His mind went to Barbara, mercilessly shot and forced on weelchair for the rest of her life. To Jason, kidnapped, tortured for a year and murdered. To Talia, shot and killed in front of him. To the innocent people he infected with his own blood...And countless other victims...He tried to list every damn thing, trying to find all the possible excuses not to feel sorry for someone like him, repeating to himself that he deserved it.

But he couldn’t.

After all the horrible things he had done, Batman would have still saved the Joker. And despite knowing that it wasn’t on himself, Bruce couldn’t help but feel guilty and responsible for not doing more. And it hurt like hell.

_ “Ho-ho-nly youuuu...can make this change in meeeeee...” _

A painful sob escaped Bruce’s mouth and his hands instantly flew to cover it, as if trying to kick it back from where it came. But the pain in his throat and chest was unbearable now and the energy to resist it completely depleted. 

He fell on his knees, hands on the floor, and finally let it all out.

_ “Fo-oor it’s trueeee...you are my destiny...” _

Tears were traveling free down his cheeks and his sobs echoed through the darkness of the cave. The dark sky outside, his every night silent comforting companion, cried along with him.

He wanted to feel angry. He couldn’t understand how a monster like the Joker could awake such an uncontrollable emotion in him. Or maybe he knew it too well.

How many times the clown had said that they completed each other, that they needed each other? There was a unique connection in their twisted relationship, he couldn’t deny it. It was something he never experienced with his friends or foes. They were magnets, opposite poles bound to collide inevitably when put near each other. The punchline to each other’s joke, as the clown would have undoubtedly phrased it.

All those calls he ignored that night...Joker almost sounded as if he was afraid that one of them would have died alone. Was it the reason why he poisoned him? Was he afraid to break their connection? Die together or live together, a singular pole can’t experience magnetic attraction, after all.

_Was it all a game for you? In that insane mind of yours..._

He looked at his own hands in front of him and thought of the countless times his fists had met those red lips, grabbed his throat or the lapels of his fancy colorful suits...Those same hands that years ago had failed to grab his, as he had watched powerless his own reflection on that shiny red hood, tragically witnessing the downfall of a man and the birth of something else entirely. Something that was bound to shape his life and twist it so hard that it would never regain its normal shape again. All the times he had looked into those fathomless green eyes and ignored the fact that what he saw there was nothing but himself, as if he was looking at that hood all over again...

_ “When you hold my hand I understand the magic that you doooo...” _

He remembered looking at the fragile figure on the floor living through his last moments, struggling to take his last breathes. His last laugh.

_ It’s ironic...I lay here crying while I remember you die laughing...I guess the joke’s always been on me after all..._

He then had effortlessly lifted his lifeless body and had carried him in his arms all the way out of the funland. He’d never forget how unreal it all felt. The chilling silence as he walked, the wind whistling coldly, the rain falling almost shily on them and on the ground, like Gotham knew that things would never be the same after that night. He had looked at him, at his head tilted back, at his chest not moving and he unconsciously had clutched him closer to his chest, as if trying to somehow regain that part of himself that died with him. But it was impossible.  


As soon as he had crossed the doors, the gasps were filling the air. He had walked towards Gordon, his voice muffled, without any verbal meaning whatsoever as he placed the body on the hood of the car and left, leaving Jim and everyone else behind him shocked. He could not bare to look at anyone or utter a single word. He could not bear to think.

_ “You’re my dream come true, my one and only youuuu..huh..huh..huh..” _

The realization stabbed him like a cold blade through the heart, as the singing voice went over the last few lines one more time: the Joker’s archenemy, the Batman, was the closest thing he had to a friend.

_ “You’re my dream come true, my one and only you.” _

The sudden silence was unbearable, like a suffocating grasp taking all the oxygen away, as if the lack of Joker’s voice echoing through the cave would make his demise official and awfully real. Their connection irremediably severed. And his pain doubled, if possible. His forehead touched the cold floor. His hands on his wet face, covering his mouth as he choked on painful sobs. The taste of blood mixing with tears. The stinging of the wounds on his body as it quivered with strong feelings.

The Batman never displayed his emotions.

And yet, he thought of how ironic it was that the Joker was the only one who managed to make him laugh in their first true confrontation and cry after their last one.

_Only you_

**Author's Note:**

> My writing has gotten very rusty throughout the years...I would really love some feedback too see what you think :)


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